Jason Rimbaud

My haunts were Stallions, it was a three level nightclub/bar in downtown Harrisburg. Brownstone was a great neighborhood bar, great go go boys and underwear night. 704 was a video lounge. Though this was all twenty odd years ago so who knows when you might have frequented Harrisburg.

It was in a small town call Fredericksburg, Pa, the name of the place, Donna's Fredericksburg Hotel. It was a local bar that served bar food. I had a lot of good times in that place. Fredericksburg Eagle Hotel Here is the current version of where I use to work. Wow, a lot of things have changed. Its more of a biker bar now. But this brings back memories I'd rather forget.

The Saga of the Wings I'm sure will be mostly what I ramble on about for the next while. Well, wings and underwear.

After Twenty Years...I Just Did This So I’ve been in the restaurant/hospitality business for over twenty years. And I can’t believe that after twenty years, I just did this. And before I go into what life changing craziness I just decided to embark on, let me tell you about my writing. Some years back, I lost the memory stick that contained all my writings for the last thirty years. And yes, not only did it hold all my stories, notes, outlines, it also contained all my work notes that I had gathered over the years. I’m not sure which hit me harder, the writings or all the content I had created that I used on the daily for work. So I decided to gather all my writings into google sheets to ensure I never again lose my tattered attempts at writing. I have already lost way too much due to losing memory sticks, crashing computers, and random acts of god. And in this attempt to make sure I got literally everything I ever wrote/posted online, I went back to 2002 and took everything I wrote for Nifty. And as I was copying those stories, I made the mistake of actually reading them. Have you all seen this trend of people reacting to things on YouTube? If I wasn’t so bald and fat I would so do a reaction video of myself reading those “stories”. Talk about bac, I can’t believe I once thought those stories were gold. In my defense, at the height of my online posting, I was getting up to fifty emails a day with these little stories. So more than a few people fed into this delusion. I even won a few readers choice awards. Trust me, in no way am I defending these “stories”. Trust me, I won’t even tell you the name I once wrote under. That’s how embarrassed I am about the words I wrote and posted all those years ago. And it wasn’t Jason Rimbaud so don’t bother checking. I’ve been in the restaurant/hospitality pretty much my whole life. I started as a bartender at twenty-one in a redneck bar in the backwoods of Pennsylvania and somehow moved up over the years to where I’ve worked for several celebrity chefs and amazing start-ups that are still flourishing even through the pandemic. I’ve opened seven restaurants for other people and have been on the ground floor of one of the fastest growing brands in the San Francisco Bay Area. As a writer, something I love doing, I’ve only really attempted to write full time back in the early 2000’s. I took four years and all I did was try and get published. And yes, I managed to get my stories in a few anthologies, a few poetry books over the years but I was never really good enough to break into the big time. I think my biggest issue, at least back then, my stories had such a small targeted audience. I write gay fiction. Well, I once wrote slash gay fiction but that’s another story all together. Gay fiction isn’t really burning up the charts and unless you manage to find work at a streaming service. But I never really wanted to write for a show, my love has always been books/novels. I will admit for the last fifteen years or so, I haven’t really focused that much on writing. A few years ago, I had almost finished a book about an alien invasion in Washington State, real end of the world stuff. And then my memory stick fell out of my shoulder bag and I ran over it a few times. I have since tried to recreate the story but I could never get it right. It was over five years work lost in a single moment. And that bummed me out. I thought I was destined to work in a restaurant for the rest of my life. But then something happened a few weeks ago that would change my life forever. Some of you know that I’m married. And “N” is also in the restaurant/hospitality industry. But he hates it. So two years ago he started going back to school to get a degree in accounting. And he did, a month ago he graduated with honors with his bachelor degree all the while he worked a full time job. And once he graduated, “N” and I were talking about the next steps. We spend a boatload of money on his degree and he really wants a job where he can use it. The biggest problem we both face, we have been successful in restaurants. And for those of you that don’t really understand what that means, let me explain. When you reach a certain point in your career, no matter what your field is, you have a track record of success. And people pay extremely well for that track record. I know people are complaining about the restaurant/hospitality industry not paying well. But if you have the right resume, you can make really good money. Especially when you’re offered profit sharing. Both of us have been wanting to leave the restaurant industry for some time. But we had been so successful that if we were to make a move on a fresh career, we’d have to take a dramatic pay cut. As much as fifty thousand a year. And we have worked way too hard to make a life for ourselves, that going back isn’t a viable option. We aren’t rich by any standard. We live in the most expensive city in the country, so if you don’t make at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year, you’re living paycheck to paycheck. But we are comfortable. In my spare time, I have been collecting all my old writing. An hour here, an hour there, while maintaining a very stressful opening for my restaurant group. One of my old stories caught my attention. It’s a love story set on St. Martin, with a small little hook that I thought wasn’t that bad. Not the writing, it was horrible. But the overall plot was kind of cool. And in my reading, instead of copying and pasting, for some reason I decided to transcribe it instead. This led me to actually rewrite the entire thing from top to bottom. It was around 120 pages originally and now it’s a bit more. I am working on another draft as we speak so I don’t know where the final word count will end. But I’m having the time of my life. After one stressful day, I was complaining to “N” about how much energy I’m putting into this latest opening. And how I’m getting frustrated in making other people money. And yes they pay me for all my energy, but at the end of the day, the owner benefits way more than I do when I successfully open a new location. “If you don’t like it, why don’t you quit.” That was “N’s” sage advice. So I replied, “And do what? Go work for someone else?” “You’ve opened a billion restaurants for other people, why don’t we open our own?” For anyone who has read my musing, you know that I love super spicy hot wings. I have been known to drive 45 minutes to San Jose so I can get my 4 Alarm Hot Wings from SmokeEaters. I have literally been to every wing place in the San Francisco Bay Area trying their “hot” wings. And besides SmokeEaters, I have always been disappointed. So over the last ten years or so, I have been creating my own spicy wing sauces. I have perfected that art of cooking chicken wings and have some amazing sauces that I think are better than anyone’s currently in San Francisco. “Why don’t we open our own?” Fuck yeah, so that’s what I did. As of June 1st, we are now business owners. We have been opened for the last three weeks and I’m having the time of my life. “N” and I have decided to take our future in our own hands. So now when I’m working eighty hours a week, it’s at least for myself and our future. LIfe is good.

Hmm, I understand the hot tub Emu, but why the time machine? My mind goes into weird places, like a time machine to go back and see me and my friend in the hot tub...or a time machine to go back and entice me into a hot tub...so many possibilities. 😜 I'm feeling silly today.

My cats, both of them, love to watch me play Red Dead Redemption 2. And each time they see an animal, they attack the screen. Good flash though. Why do we always jump to conclusion instead of just communicating with the other person. It would save a lot of stress and anxiety.

I've fallen for way too many straight guys for this to end well in my tiny brain. Good piece though.

My friends once tried to scare me like that. I was in the bathroom taking a shower and when I opened the door, two of them threw a blanket over my head and tried to tie me up. One busted lip and a black eye and it was over. I never liked surprises. I start swinging. Needless to say, both of those friends I still consider close to this day. Though I haven't hit either one of them in a long time.

My first experience with a hut tub in the winter time was in Pennsylvania, mid January, about four feet of snow on the ground. My "friend" and I would get hammered at the bar with our friends before rushing home and taking a soak. Always ended up with him sitting on the edge of the hot tub, a cigarette in one hand and my head in the other. I was always toasty warm in the water and he was always toasty warm in other ways! Good times.

Bad Bear!

Hahaha, I've run into that problem once. A person found some of my writings and was really upset that I described our time together. He brought it up to our mutual friends and was complaining about it. The problem was, none of my friends had read what I wrote about us, nor would they have known it was about him because I changed the name and the description. Boy was he embarrassed. If he had only kept his mouth shut no one would have known.

The full of piss and vinegar comment, is that in reference that I'm so old I have to wear adult diapers? J

I'm married so I actually have no say in anything that happens in my house. The only solace I get is in the kitchen. That's my domain and mine alone, unless you count Chit and Chat dogging me at all times. But I digress. I get to decorate and purchase anything I want for the kitchen. Makes you wonder why I'm over a healthy weight now, its the only time I get any respite. Thank you Cole. And dogs suck a bit less than cats.

Chit & Also Chat Equals an Upset “N” May 12th, 2022 I can’t believe it’s already May 12, 2022. Life seems to move faster and faster the older you get. I’ll be fifty in two and half years. Where the hell did the time go? Just yesterday I was twenty year old chasing fuzzy bunny slippers and now I’m lucky to find my slippers. Not sure if that is a euphemism. But it sounds dirty so I’ll allow it. So I’m bald. But that’s been for like ten years now. I’m one of the lucky ones. My head is perfectly round like a bowling ball, it also has three holes in it. Wait, I’m forgetting a few holes, that’s so not like me to forget a hole I have. Told you I’m getting old. Remember when I was obsessed with my drug weight and how I hated to be sober because it made me fat? And once I quit drugs my friends used to say that I was finally getting to a “healthy weight”. Which we all know is code for fat ass. Well, no one accuses me of that anymore. And I’m a few pounds heavier than I used to be. I’m married, for three years now. We have been together for almost seven years. So my days of chasing train twink's and straight boy crushes are long behind me. As well as any type of sex. I’m trying to tell you that I never have sex anymore. And it’s not like I don’t try to jump my husband's bones/bone at every opportunity. For some reason he hates it when I try to dry hump him in the middle of Target. He’s such a prude sometimes. I am now the owner of two cats, Chit and Chat. So my once pristine carpets are destroyed and filled with stains. And not the fun stains that I am accustomed to cleaning. Fur balls, and vomit and that’s just from my husband. My job is amazing. It keeps me busy but opening new locations and getting into the corporate side of the business is so much fun. I don’t want to tell them that I would do it for half the money they are paying me. Even I think they pay me way too much for the work I accomplish. My husband, I love the way that sounds by the way. My husband just graduated from an online college for accounting. He decided to change careers at *insert age*, and is now living his best life as a stuffy accountant. Did I mention that he crammed a three year program into one year? Did I also tell you that he did that while working a full time job? Did I also tell you that he graduated with one of the highest rankings in the year? Boom, humble brag about my husband, no regrets. The last three months, I have begun gathering all my writings, Blog entries, poetry, and converting them to Google Docs so I can keep them all in the same place. During this process, I first started with my Blog at AwesomeDude. I went all the way back to the very first one with the intention of copying and pasting into Google Docs. But I found myself re-reading the entries and I found so many errors, spelling or grammatical that I actually rewrote all of them. From start to finish. I wasted almost two months rewriting them all before I started on my poetry, and I am now working on all the stories I posted under a name that none of you know. Did you know that twenty years ago I was rather prolific on Nifty writing fan fiction? Did you also know that I won several Boy Band awards writing under my first pen name? You didn’t, because they were all fucking horrible. I know, because I am reading/rewriting them now for some weird reason. Maybe one day I’ll let you read them so you can see how much they suck. Getting back to my Blog, boy was I a mess back then. Do you remember those angst filled, drug induced, straight boy crushes that almost killed me? I don’t. It was like looking at someone else. I guess I am so far removed from that person that I actually enjoyed reading the old entries. On entertainment value, I’d say my Blog was a 9 out of 20. On personal growth, 20 out of 20. I posted on several different sites over the years. And as I have been gathering them all together, I have come across stories I completely forgot I wrote. Poetry that was really good, it’s under my name but I’ll be damned if I remember writing them. Is this what happens when you finally get your shit together and grow up? I used to be a clean freak, I’d have marathon cleaning sessions. In each room of my apartment/house, all the carpet had to be vacuumed in the same way, each with complete straight lines. I washed the baseboards every week, dust the tops of doorways, clean all the doors to my kitchen cabinets. Scrub the floor and if I’d find even one little stain on my carpet, I’d shampoo the entire thing. But that was before “N”. Upon reading my Blog, it seems that all the men I dated/fucked are messy. It’s easily the one thing that connects all my hookups together. I still hate leftovers, I don’t understand why you need to have leftovers? Why? You never fucking eat them. Throw them away. Why do you constantly make me clean up after you by cleaning out the fridge every few days of leftover food that you just had to save? “N” comes home from work. Before I tell you that, let me explain a little about “N”. “N” is 110 pounds if I put rocks in his pockets and weigh him fully dressed including shoes. And he’s five foot nine inches, so he’s not short. The only reason I tell you this is to explain why I do five loads of laundry each week with only two people in the house. “N” wears this every time he leaves the house. Three to four pairs of long johns, a pair of jeans/pants, three pairs of socks, a Tank-Top, a T-Shirt,a pullover sweater, a hoodie, and of course undies. That’s seven days a week! Before I came into his life, I’m not saying that he wore the same long johns, socks for days on end, but he was only doing one load of laundry a week. I’ll let you decide his clothing habits. So when my lovely husband comes home after a long day at work. The other thing about “N” is, when he was going to school full time, he was also working full time. He is as dedicated, driven a person as I ever met. He’s smart, way smarter than I will ever hope to be. He’s hot, fucking hot in a can’t believe I get to see you naked whenever I want kind of way. He’s so fucking hot if I wasn’t so in love with him I’d want the whole world to see his naked ass. But he’s a messy mother fucker. He comes home from work, after studying five or six hours in the morning before working an entire day, and his shoes get thrown in different directions, he takes off his long johns, and pants, and undies in one motion. So I have three to four long johns, pants, undies, all inside out, layered on top of each other. His socks come off the same way, three pairs inside out layered, his sweater and hoodie, inside out and layered…in a heap on the kitchen or living room floor. He then gets a new pair of undies, sleep pants, three pairs of socks, a Tank Top, T-Shirt, and a sweater/hoodie. Then he crawls into our bed, we have three thick comforters and he still complains he’s cold. I’m in the house, in a pair of shorts, sweating because he has the fucking heat turned up to the hell setting. Our two cats, Chit & Chat, are literally open mouth breathing because of the heat. And he’s fucking cold. He then gets ready for bed. He takes off the sweater/hoodie, the T-Shirt, throws them on the floor next to our bed, and goes to sleep. In the morning, he gets a new T-Shirt, sweater/hoodie and puts them on. After he takes a shower, he takes off his undies, his three pairs of socks, his Tank-Top, his T-Shirt, and his sweater/hoodie and puts them on the bathroom floor. Right next to the laundry basket, because he prefers his clothes on the floor. I love him. We have four laundry baskets around our house. For one, because for some reason we go through a lot of dirty clothes. But mainly because I always have a laundry basket handy for me to pick up his clothes from the floor and put it inside the basket. He then starts the whole process all over again. I do a lot of laundry. Do you understand how much time I spend just turning his clothes right side out before washing them? You don’t because no one is as messy as my husband. Not your husband, or any husband that has ever been a husband in the history of the entire fucking world. September marks the 16th year I’ve had a Blog on Awesome Dude. Sixteen long years of rambling, digressions, and pointless rants that my one loyal reader has had to put up with. I feel sorry for whoever that person is. I probably have made him/her/they dumber in the process. But that’s the risk you run when reading anything I write. You must have missed the disclaimer. I’ve been toying with the idea of doing something special in September. Like maybe I’ll post nudes in my Blog, one nude for each year my Blog has been hosted at Awesome Dude. I could probably find a nude from every year. Then all you could see the way I’ve gotten balder on my head and hirsute in my ears and upper shoulders. By the way, no one ever told me that not only does hair grow out your ears the older you get, but for some reason my eyebrows are getting bushy as well. Fuck you all for keeping that secret from me. I also thought I could do a Blast from the Past section in my Blog. Posting something once a month to remind my one loyal reader of the absurdity of my past. Or I could work in the titles of my old entries with a link for those who might want to revisit those digressions. Seriously, when I read the entry “I’ll Never Wear Boxers Again”, it might be one of the best things I wrote here. But all that sounds like a shit ton of work and I’m way too lazy to do any of that. Though I did have fun going through my photos finding all the nudes I’ve taken over the years. I don’t want to slut shame myself, but I was a fucking slut. Some of the photos I looked at and thought, why did I get laid so often in my youth? There is a whole series of just Las Vegas photos that would make a seaman blush. Boom, my first cum joke of this Blog, no regrets. “N” had wanted a dog from the first moment I met him. I’m not an animal person. If anyone remembers an entry called “Giant Can Of Red Bull, Spearmint Gum, and a Pack of Marlboro Lights” would know that. I completely refused to get a dog. They are messy, dirty, and stain the carpets. I would not have a dog in my fucking house. Plus, I have a hard enough time cleaning up “N’s” shit on the daily. The last thing I want to do is clean up actual shit from the street a few times a day. The one thing I make “N '' do, he must clean the litter box. And if he “forgets” I dump a bit of fresh litter on his side of the bed to remind him. Just a little game we like to play. Don’t you worry about that. Chit is an orange tabby female cat. According to “N”, orange tabby females are very rare. Chit was brought home about 10 months ago. Chit is a very nice cat, cleans herself often, has a clean butthole, and much to “N’s” chagrin, is my cat. Chit follows me around the house, no matter where I’m at, Chit is right there next to me. Chit helps me do laundry, helps me clean, offers advice while I’m playing video games, watches me while I eat. What else, she’s 11 pounds at 10 months old, so she is still a kitten. Oh, and she fucking sleeps on my face every night. “N” is always cold. I have tried to get Chit to sleep with “N”. But for some reason, Chit is not happy unless her ass is firmly pressed up against my mouth. I sleep on my left side, facing my wonderful if not messy husband. My arm is stretched out like I’m trying to stay connected to him in our sleep. Chit sleeps in the corner of my arm, her head facing “N”, her ass in my mouth. And when I move my head back a few inches to get a breath that’s not filled with hair, she presses back until she makes contact with my mouth. Six hours a day I have to put up with this cat needing me to breathe on her ass. Chit wakes me up every morning at 3am by slapping my face with her paws. She will continue to slap me until I roll over on my back where she will then sit on my chest, her face about an inch from my mouth and demand head rubs for about twenty minutes. Once she decrees that she is finished with head rubs, she will smack my face for me to roll back over on my side where she will assume her position of staring at my husband with her ass back in my mouth. At five am, she will start headbutting me until I get up to feed her. Once she is fed, I am dead to her for about seven hours. She sleeps next to my husband, purring in his ear. Chit is a very proper cat. She lays down with her paws crossed, staring blankly at me as I move around the house. The upside, I can do anything I want to her and she doesn’t seem to care. I touch her paws, trim her nails, rub her belly, all this she takes in stride. Have you ever given someone a “raspberry”. You know, you put your lips on them and blow out. I do this to her all the time, and she just sits there with a look on her face of “continue, let me know when you are done.” To get my revenge on her, when she is sleeping in the ray of sunshine that comes through our patio door, I start rubbing her head, her belly, anything to wake her up. Then once she goes back to sleep, I’ll do it again. One time I timed it, I fucked with her sleeping for thirty minutes and she didn’t move more than her tail twitched. Chit likes to take showers with me. She gets soaking wet and likes to run to my sleeping husband plop down on his chest. It’s one of his favorite ways to wake up in the morning. About two months ago, “N” decided that our perfect little proper cat is depressed. So he brings home a little psycho that we named “Chat”. Chat was abandoned, so she never had a mother to teach her things like, how to groom herself, how to cover her waste, or how to do anything. So we have a complete psycho that has disturbed our lives in ways that we will be feeling for years to come. If you thought I was mean to Chit for fucking with her while she sleeps, then you haven’t seen nothing what Chat does. It took us about a week to bring the two together. Chit and also Chat are now friends. They sleep together, groom each other, steal one another's food, shit in the same box, and generally cause mayhem in our lives. I know I said Chit was a proper cat. But that was a lie. Chit has destroyed my carpets, my couch, my top comforter, and all the strings to every single hoodie I own. All of them. She is a complete nightmare walking. I cut her nails, we have scratching posts all over the house, but she refuses to use them. I fucking hate her. No matter where Chit is, Chat will stalk her in a way that only a two pound kitten can do, unsteadily. Chat will creep up and then run at full speed and launch herself into Chit. I find it crazy that Chit is so gentle with Chat. She could easily knock her into next month but I’ve seen Chit actually run into a wall to avoid stepping on Chat. The other day, remember, Chat has only been in our house for five weeks, Chit must have gotten tired of the smell because Chat hasn’t learned to groom herself. Chit ran over and forced her to the floor, and started cleaning her from nose to tail. “N” and myself were cheering her on by saying, “clean her butthole, teach her to clean her butthole”. And Chit being a proper cat, did just that. No more smelly Chat. Boom, kind of a Friends reference, some regrets. “N” was hoping when he brought Chat home, that he would finally get a cat of his own to shadow him all over the house. He took off four days to make sure I was at work so she would bond with him. He demanded that only he be the one to feed her. After the first day was over, and I was heading into work, the moment the door shut behind me, Chat started crying at the door and did so for the rest of the day. When I get home, Chat comes running to me no matter what she is doing. So now I have two cats, Chit and Chat, sleeping on my face. Chat is learning that if she smacks me in the face during the night, she will get head rubs too. I now get woken up in shifts, one for Chit, and one for Chat. Believe me, I thank my husband every morning by waking him up when they wake me up. It's a game we love to play. A game that has evolved into my husband threatening to move into the guest room if I insisted on playing it with him. We so love to kid each other. Where was I? That’s right. I’m happy.

Definitely one of my favorites. Great reading as well!

Thats just good advice all year long!

Ha, maybe I'll start writing my memoirs that has all the juicy details.

I've been reaching back in the past gathering all my writings and saving them on google docs. This piece brought back so many bitter sweet memories. Brandon was a great guy I met back in my drug induce craziness, we had just started seeing each other when like a whirlwind Mark came back into my life. I'm not saying that I was the reason he joined the army, I wasn't. But I wonder how life would have been different if I would have ignored Mark's call. This made me tear up, not much does that. Especially something I wrote. But I had completely forgotten I wrote this piece so it was like a hammer that hit me. J

Somewhere/Somewhen a contributor to this website advise me to start using google docs instead of saving things on the hard drive or memory stick. Anyway, I have since started doing this with all my online work. So at first I started by copying and pasting, but then I noticed how many spelling errors, grammatical mistakes that I actually started rewriting everything. I have since rewritten every blog entry I wrote, now I'm working on my fiction. It's been a blast putting everything in google docs. So whoever told me this thank you!

Long ago in a time that happened before today, I was forced to watch the movies with my then boyfriend, who was a huge Potter nerd. After we watched the Half-Blood prince, and before the final movies came out, he made me read the books, assuring me they were so much better than the movies. I can tell you I preferred the movies over the books, especially the first four books, where I felt that J.K. was writing for a much younger audience. And I must admit that her writing did improve as the books went on. That being said, I don't really enjoy Harry Potter as much as I enjoy the idea of the world that J.K. created, which is filled with lore and amazing ideas, plots. I love fantasy/Sci-Fi/Magic stories but have a hard time watching/reading stories about younger protagonists. I just don't relate to them nor do I think anyone 13 years old would be that smart/brave/fearless. That being said, my now husband, has made me watch those movies more times than I can count. And the very last movie is my favorite, maybe it's because it marks the end of the torture I must endure every few months or so. As for the world J.K. created, I found the fan fiction to be way more enjoyable and sometimes better written. Anyone want to be a special edition Harry Potter movie collection for cheap? Anyone? Bueller?

Did anyone else see this crazy kickstarter Brandon Sanderson pulled out this last week? Brandon Sanderson Kickstarter Jason

That sounds like a remake of a seventies movie, Same Time Next Year, starring Alan Alda and Ellen Burstyn. Of course it was about a straight couple. Both married to other people but for a weekend once a year, they go to the same cabin and carry on an affair. I found it highly entertaining. I'll have to check out the Last Straight Man, to see how it holds up to the original. I have been trying to write that story for years, with several dozen drafts with different plots, but I could never get it to where I thought it was as good as the original. I'm glad to see someone else stole another one of my ideas. 🙂 Jason

The older I get the less I want to read stories depicting graphic sex. Maybe its because I'm married now, so I get denied sex so often its been drilled out of me. 🙂 When I was younger, in all my slut glory, I didn't have that much sex as some writers depict. I know you want to have sex in every chapter but if it has only been two hours in story, just because its a new chapter, the characters aren't going to be ready again, or find the time. I've had a few...orgies in my youth, and after four or five guys, I wasn't looking for sex for a while. It takes time for the soreness to go away. Plus, when I was in school, I was busy, I had things to do, I didn't have the time to be banging away. I wrote a story once upon a time, that depicted two characters trying to find a time and place to have sex. They never managed to. That was my experience in my teenage years. For Camy's sake, I won't mention my twenties, its not good to make an Emu blush. J

The Wheel of Time: A Rambling, Digression Filled Review By: A Fan of the Books So somewhere & somewhen, I started replying in a Wheel of Time: The Series thread and realized after a few pages that it was way too long to post in a thread. Plus it was filled with colorful metaphors, talks of naughty bits, and generally senseless ramblings that I decided about that time for a new Blog Entry by the amazing Jason Rimbaud. Or is that the absent Rimbaud? Doesn’t matter. But before I start to bore you with my thoughts about a show that has been finished for almost three months, let’s go back in time. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. But definitely in the realm of times. The year was 1993, this little freckled-faced boy, who was filled with hopes and aspirations of one day becoming a writer of fiction, wandered into a magical place called Borders in Harrisburg Pennsylvania. For those of you too young to remember just what the hell is a Borders, I’ll tell you. And again, I’m not saying this is true in all places and also times, I’m just saying what I knew to be true back in 93’. Borders was a place that if you entered the store at a particular time, and you went up the long escalator to the second floor, and turned left and went straight to the back corner of the store. You would find one of the biggest restrooms you have ever seen in your life. And if you went into that restroom, you would first see a row of sinks, eight of them, then a wall of hand dryers, then if you continued walking around the pony wall, you would find a row of a thousand stalls, seriously there were a billion stalls in that restroom. And like I said, if you were to walk into that bathroom at a particular time, and walked around that pony wall, and enter the very last stall on the right, then you might be able to get a blowjob from a random stranger. Who I might add, would refuse to look at you much less talk to you after the deed was completed and you accidentally ran into him perusing the rows and also rows of books. No my friend, we didn’t have hook-up apps like Jack’d & Grindr where we could see the photos of the person before we hooked up. Or read a profile detailing what they were into and what they wanted to do. Nope, we had to do it the old fashion way. Sit patiently in a stall, sometimes hours before we finally got that wonderful signal, shove our penis into a hole in the wall, and pray beyond hope that it was at least a halfway decent looking guy. The times that ended up happening were few and very, very, very, very far between. So that is Borders kids, you don’t know what you were missing out on. Complete anonymous sex with older men, whether you liked that or not. That was the option back in those days. So there I was, a young man filled with testosterone and a full head of hair, perusing the rows of books waiting to see if anyone entered that magical place. As it happened, while I was waiting for something exciting to happen, I noticed a display of books. This display of books was in the perfect eye line of the entrance to the restroom. I’m sure you’ve seen those displays, normally a huge cardboard placard of the cover of the book, with maybe a few reviews of the book, and the title. And there it was, this large placard, saying coming this fall, The Fires of Heaven by Robert Jordan. And the cover is rather plain, just a man standing in the middle of what looks like a courtyard wearing a red coat, with orange hair. But in the background was a man standing there with a staff slung over one shoulder and a wide brim hat. This was the image I was intrigued by. Who was that man in the wide brim hat? Keeping one eye on the entrance to the restroom, I quickly realized that The Fires of Heaven was the fifth book in this epic fantasy series. I knew that because they had the first four books on the table under the placard, and being somewhat intelligent, I surmised that these were the first four books of the series. And the rumor was back then, that this was going to be the final book of the series. Who would attempt to write a ten plus book series of fantasy. I usually never want to start a series until it is complete, as I hate waiting for the new book to come out. And kids, if you thought waiting a week for a new episode of your favorite TV show, then try waiting two years or more for the next installment. That is patience. And if you really want to talk about patience, it took me another ten years before I got the ending I so wanted from that long ago day of sloppy blowjobs and cover art. Chew on that patience I displayed. Though I went to Borders that day for a quick, sloppy blowjob from a random stranger in the restroom, I picked up the first book of the series and decided to read a few pages while I waited for someone to go into the bathroom. Now I'm going to be honest here, I’d like to say that all thoughts of strange men sucking me off left my future bald head upon reading that first prologue of Eye of the World. But that’s not true, I ended up with a somewhat younger man than normal on the receiving end of my…bellend. But that’s another story. I think I finished all eight hundred or so pages in a few days of the Eye of the World and immediately went back to that Borders, not for a blowjob but to buy the next book in the series. Over the next few weeks I devoured all four books and couldn’t wait for the fifth and final book to come out. Being a massive fan of the books that I am, and not that fan that thinks the books are perfect, I am fully aware that the first three books are somewhat a slogfest and let's not talk about eight, nine, and ten. But I loved the storyline and had the biggest crush on Mat, the one who turned out to be the figure in the wide brim hat. I was stoked that the Wheel of Time would finally be getting the live action treatment from Amazon Studios. And once I saw the trailer, I knew it was going to be different then the books for a multitude of reasons. The average book length, not dick length, is eight hundred pages. That’s crazy long. And there is no way in hell they could do one book per season. Who would expect a show to last 14 seasons anyway. We know that Robert Jordan loved describing the most mundane things in finite detail and that's not even discussing his fascination with ladies dresses and hairstyles. The books have a lot of filler that could be cut and never missed. By the way, how does one actually go about sniffing in disgust or anger? The female characters are always sniffing, pulling their hair (though I have noticed a lot lately that women constantly stroke their hair in public like a boy scratches around his crotch) and looking disapprovingly at every male they see. The story itself takes place over a period of three years. ( I had to look that up as I thought the story took place over a much longer period of years. That means Rand was only 19 when…) No spoilers. So 14 seasons would age the characters out. The amount of time spent traveling from one place to another is so time consuming that I know they would have to keep the story moving at a faster pace. So avoiding certain places and events only makes sense. There are thousands of characters in these books and many of them have speaking parts, so combining several characters into one or omitting them completely is understandable. My husband, “N”, who does not offer blowjobs in the restrooms…anymore, has no experience with the book series. Except that he constantly tells me to throw out my WOT books because they are cluttering up the bookcase and he can’t put up more photos of us sans restrooms. “N” is a huge fan of fantasy & Sci-Fi, so he was all in after watching the trailer. And after watching the first three episodes, he was hooked. But then became rather pissed off because Amazon decided to drop a new episode weekly instead of all at once. He made me…physically threatened my life if I were to watch them without him. I’m sure none of you know this, but I am a huge fan of Survivor. Yes, that reality show that has been on the air for twenty years. Don’t judge me, I had to get blowjobs in restrooms by random strangers when I was young, I don’t know any better. “N” also likes Survivor, but can’t stand waiting for the new weekly episode to drop, so I watch it first, and then once it's all released, then he will binge it in like three days. That is what he made me promise to do, wait until it's all released and then watch it with him all in one night. And I don’t like watching TV like that. I like to digest what I just watched and think about it for a week before dipping my bald head back into the experience. So on Christmas Eve we snuggled in bed, I hate watching TV in bed, and binged the remaining five episodes. “N” loved it. He liked the characters, the cinematography, the special effects, the magic system, and of course, the Trollocs. And I will agree, the first six episodes look fantastic. I love that they are filming in a location that is unknown to most American audiences. So it looked like a fantasy world. And yes there are CGI touches to things, but they built a lot of actual set pieces in the amazing landscape that is Czech Republic, in Prague. He loved the mystery that is, which one of them is the Dragon Reborn. I actually enjoyed watching it with him in bed as he went back and forth. It is Matt, oh wait, it has to be Perrin, no I think it is Egwene. I’m sure it's Perrin, Holy Shit! It's Rand, I knew. And he asked me questions about the books, which I refused to answer. He begged me to tell him what happened next, and all I can say, I don’t know, they changed so much I have no clue. Then he offered me blowjobs, not in a restroom much to my chagrin, and when I still didn’t acquiesce to his demands he cut me off from sex completely. So back to Borders…Wait, Borders are no more. Balls. “N” didn’t know what they had changed, made up, omitted, or combined into single characters. All he knew is he loved the drama, the mystery, the scariness of the Whitecloaks. Who I must admit, are even more terrifying than in the books. So “N” didn’t understand when Tam first drew the Heron sword, I took a sharp intake of breath. And grinned from ear to ear when Morgaine and Lan were kicking Trolloc ass in the Two Rivers. The encounter Perrin had with the wolves in the forest only fueled his theory that Perrin was the Dragon Reborn, I only smiled. When the camera focuses in on the dagger, I yelled something out, but he didn’t understand why. I got so excited when I first saw Thom in the Inn telling us the tale of the Dragon Reborn. And when he was killed by the Fade, I inwardly smiled as I am rather certain that isn’t the last time we see Thom. Or when I first saw a red haired Aiel in the cage, I giggled at the implication and wanted to know how they would portray the best fighters in the world. Nor did I say aloud, what the hell is that? When the Ogier first arrives talking to Rand in the Inn. Or why I starting yelling, thats what I’m fucking talk about, when the Maiden of the Spear was on that snowy mountain top and I saw she was pregnant. Though I did remain rather silent as I watched in awe as she proceeded to take out all those soldiers. But I did get to see his reaction when he realized that the soldier was Tam and that badass fighter was Rand’s mother. And much like him, in a way it was a new story for me as well. I knew and understood the changes they had to make. And actually liked that they changed the age of all the lead characters. Or making the show way darker than the novels. Bloodier than Jordan would ever dare dream. And lets not forget boobies, there are boobies and butts everywhere. And maybe even a hint of ball bag, Lan’s ball bag. Nudity is looked up as taboo in the Two Rivers, but throughout the rest of the books, there are boobies flooping around everywhere. And lest we forget, Rand and Egwene have been doing the nasty for a while. And Perrin knocked up some chick before slicing her open like a ripe Cantaloupe. Lan and Nynaeve knocking boots, that didn’t happen until book 10 or something. Moiraine being all lipstick to Siuan butch amazingness. Everyone is fucking, From the very beginning, which I do think was a bad cold open for Wheel of Times, I knew this wasn’t Robert Jordan’s Wheel of TIme anymore. And I was completely okay with that. If the concept is that everything has happened before, and these people are constantly being re-born into different ages, then this is just a different version of events that happened a long time ago in our future. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. So in the books, the Whitecloaks were dangerous and very militaristic, but damn, what a way to introduce them. That scene was deliciously twisted and just the way I imagined those zealots to behave. I think his fascination on Perrin and Egwene wasn’t really explained well, there were several leaps of logic in why he suspected them to be from the White Tower. But, plot, I understand. I still would like to ask the showrunner why he spent almost an entire episode of only an eight episode season on an Aes Sedi and her Warder. That actually made me angry and wish I was back in that cold restroom with strangers sucking on my weiner. Lan didn’t need to thump his chest, in the books he was more reserved and rarely showed emotion. I thought it was so out of character and still don’t understand why they felt this deserved an entire episode. It didn’t further the main story, nor did it really tell much about the White Tower and the Sisters. Let's talk about the magic system and its live action depiction. I absolutely loved how they showed the one power. And yes I’ve read the naysayers talk about how they don’t go into detail about wielding the One Power on the show and casual viewers don’t appreciate the toll it takes on the user. Fuck you, visually, it works. Not everyone bones up about magic systems and how they work. And the wisps of smoke, gray for the Sisters and inky black for the men, I thought really captured the yen and yang of it all. And did the Whitecloaks put a beat down on the Tinkers, probably my least favorite groups in the entire series. The Way of the Leaf reminds me of vegetarians and I like my meat! (that's a long way to go for a dick joke, but I’ll allow it). We got to see a truly badass false dragon kill everyone and Nynaeve dropping the One Power bomb that healed everyone. That was epic in all the right places. I am finding this Nynaeve more tolerable than in the books. In this weaving of the Wheel, I dislike Egwene more, which I find distasteful. In the books, Nynaeve is the worst depiction of a female character I have ever read, watched, dreamed about in all the weavings of the Wheel. EVER. The actress who plays Egwene is simply amazing. And with the exception of Mat, who I didn’t think captured the essence of what Mat was, the rest of them are really good in their roles across the board. But Moiraine steals the show, she is perfect in every way and her scene where she fucks her “pillowfriend”, is amazing. Great acting. I didn’t find a weak actor in the bunch, just a stellar job of casting. We get to see a scene from book 3, when the Two Rivers folk are riding together and start singing and then Moiraine tells the story of Mantheran, I got chills. It made me want to go join in the fight against fades, trollocs, the dark one, and Borders restroom trolls. The last two episodes were my least favorite. And not just because they had changed so much of the story that I was literally lost a few times on who these people were. But mostly because you could tell that Covid restrictions really hit them hard. Set pieces were smaller, probably to disguise they had less extras than before. Unfinished special effects, and one of their main characters refusing to come back to finish the show in the poorly cast Mat. How much rewriting do you think they had to do to cover the absence of Mat in the final two episodes? Did I mention the horrible special effects in the last battle with the Trollocs? And why did they only send eight people to defend the gap against hordes of Trollocs anyway? Covid. I can forgive the limitations of the last two episodes. I also forgive the rushed ending as Amazon refused to move the premiere date to give them more time, so yes, it wasn’t perfect. But I can’t forgive the way they ended the season. Three untrained Aes Sedi being led by a too weak to serve accepted, doesn’t matter she was tower trained, took out thousands of trollocs. And yes the idea was to say that Nynaeve and Egwene were that strong in the One Power, that even an accepted could destroy everything and everyone being linked in a circle. Rand was the one in the books that appeared in the sky above the gap and saved everyone, thus proclaiming himself the Dragon Reborn. But they had to have a scene where Egwene saves Nynaeve’s life. Doesn’t matter that throughout the entire book series, Egwene was known to be weak in healing. Nor does anywhere in the books show that much destruction can be had without the aid of enhancement items. It really left a sour taste in my mouth. And before you say, “They made it all girl power because of the times and the me too movement. All males are stupid and useless without a woman telling them what to do”. I only have to ask one question, did you read the fucking book? Robert Jordan clearly wrote that into the story thirty years ago. Every single female character is written from a view of power, except for Min. They always know what to do and think men are stupid. Robert Jordan had either a very high opinion of women or thought they were all horrible, as every female character is written the same way. So should you watch this show…like I said in that restroom stall all those years ago…yes, yes, yes!

Hahahah, what a deliciously dirty poem. I love it. J